Moss listened wide-eyed as the crew of the Dolphin's
Nose swapped tall tails. One man spoke of dodging a
dozen hungry whirlpools in the Death Straits that
protected their homeland from outsiders. Another told
of a daring raid on a Krobbolyte port, sneaking in and
out again with only his cunning and his longsight to
protect him.
The men laughed, and quaffed urchin gin, glad to be
back home after their dangerous voyages. Moss sat on a
barrel, bursting to speak.
"I'm gonna be a navigator when I'm old enuff," he
declared when the conversation hit a lull. The men
stared at him in amazement, and then fell about with
laughter once more.
"Ya little maggit!" first mate Stave roared, "ya
couldn't spot a whale in ya bathtub!"
Moss flushed scarlet, as men slapped Stave's back in
approval.
Captain Narwhal did not join in, but wore a broad
smile that revealed an expensive gold tooth.
"You must know that only the best longseers have a
chance of joining the fleet little Moss," he said
kindly. "Most of your fellow grass-flatteners are too
busy sitting on their behinds to make the effort."
Moss glared at the sniggering crew.
"I can longsee!" he protested, "I practice everyday
while I'm workin' on the harbour. I'm not a
grass-flattener!"
He leapt to his feet as he saw their sceptical looks.
"Alright, I challenge any of ya! The one who can spot
the furthest gull wins!"
Moss turned from the amused crew, and stared out to
sea. His eyes snapped closed. His pupils moved rapidly
beneath the lids.
He was longseeing.
In Moss's mind the ocean leapt towards him, and then
began to flash past beneath. It had been a nauseating
experience at first, but now he found it exhilarating.
Moss felt as though he was flying over the waves like
a bird, but his body never left the barrel on which it
stood.
On the dock, first mate Stave was scratching his head.
"'ang on a minute. If ee sees the furthest, 'ow do we
know ee's really seen summat?"
Captain Narwhal slapped his officer's now stinging
back.
"I can see why I promoted you Stave. Nothing gets past
you."
Suddenly Moss' body shook violently, an involuntary
quiver that the men recognised instantly. They had all
experienced it at some point, though they did not like
to admit it: Moss had seen something with his
longsight that scared him.
The crew of the Dolphin's Nose scrambled to their
feet, and focussed through the gin haze.
"Prob'ly just a shark," Stave muttered, as he cast out
his longsight towards the ocean.
A moment later though, a shudder ran through the tough
old man's rugged frame. Out at sea, barely visible to
the naked eye, five Great Ships loomed high and
terrible. Organic black tar crawled eerily over the
ancient planking of the hulls. On the decks,
Krobbolyte warriors were scurrying in preparation for
an assault on the Longseers' island.
"Th... that's impossible!" Stave shouted, as his
longsight snapped back into his body like elastic,
"those monsters have never managed to cross the Death
Straits before! Never in two thousand years!"
Moss's face was white with shock.
"I never realised... " he murmured, "I've heard the
stories, but their faces... they look like devils."
"Worse 'en that boy," Stave said sadly, "worse 'en
that."
* * *
Word of the invasion fleet flashed around the island.
The Longseer public flapped and wailed.
Their long blissful isolation was over, but no-one had
predicted this moment. No defence plans had been made.
No evacuation course plotted.
Their defeat was inevitable.
* * *
The first Great Ship, the Vengeance, smashed through
the pier where Moss had worked as though it were built
of twigs. Immediately a deluge of hemp rope rained
down from the deck. Moss looked up in fear as the
Krobbolyte soldiers began to abseil down. He could
smell their damp, fetid fur already. Howling calls
echoed in the air.
"Moss, come with me!"
Captain Narwhal beckoned Moss, his curious gold ring
glinting in the sun.
"I know a way off the island!"
Moss followed the Captain gratefully, fleeing the
murderous cries of the Krobbolytes. Ill-prepared
Longseer troops rushed past them as they left the
docks and wound through the streets to the edge of
town.
"What about your crew?" Moss asked, as they ran down a
steep cliffside path towards Coral Bay.
"They can take care of themselves... just hurry!"
In the water off Coral Bay a large clipper ship
bobbed. Flying on it's mask was a flag that Moss did
not recognise, despite his work at the main harbour.
He turned to question the Captain, just as something
blunt and heavy connected with his head. Moss's body
slumped unconscious to the path.
* * *
"I'm sorry Moss, business is business."
Moss focussed his blurred eyes on Captain Narwhal. New
gold glittered on the man's hands and wrists.
"They would have worked out a route through the Death
Straits eventually," Narwhal continued. "I just gave
them a quicker solution. "
Moss tried to move, but his arms were bound. Ahead of
him was a curving wall of bare wooden boards. The room
felt as though it were moving, bobbing gently.
"No!" he breathed in terror, as the damp smell of the
Krobbolytes assailed him.
He knew then that he was on board one of the Great
Ships.
"It is so much easier to avoid the whirlpools and
reefs, when you have the help of a Longseer," Narwhal
said.
He smiled wickedly at Moss.
"It looks like you've got your wish after all. You're
a navigator now... "
From outside on the island, Moss heard a long, drawn
out, scream. But for once, he had no desire to use his
longsight.
x x x
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